Before Dawn
by Bookwrm389
Summary: "Sometimes the darkest part of our hearts is also the strongest. Even pain reminds us that we're still alive." Alternate Palace Ruins scene in Jak 3, written because Damas deserved to live.


_A.N. Yes, I know. I caved to my inner fangirl and wrote a "Damas doesn't die" story. But I sincerely hope I didn't make it anything like the few I've read, the ones where Damas either wasn't AS badly hurt as he looked or he was magically healed by Jak or the Precursors or some crap like that. I feel like it cheapens Damas' death when you go the whole Monty Python route and say, "Oh well, he wasn't QUITE dead, and he's actually feeling much better now." Just, no. That makes no sense to me. _

_With that in mind, I did my best to make this as hard as possible on Jak and Damas and even poor Daxter. Because there's some truth in the saying that it's always darkest before dawn.  
><em>

Before Dawn

The fifth time he crashed the Slam Dozer into a solid mound of debris, Damas swore aloud. "Pay attention, Jak! I can't aim straight if you keep doing that!"

"What do you _expect _when we're driving in this kind of terrain?" Jak demanded, gesturing angrily at palace ruins. He threw Dozer into reverse and pressed the gas, cursing when the tires spun in place and spewed muddy rainwater and bits of stone in the air. They both ducked when the Dark Maker satellites opened fire on them, and Damas hastily spun the turret around to keep them at bay with a volley of blaster fire.

"Anytime now," Damas said in warning.

"I'm _trying!_"

"Try _harder!_"

"_Just get us moving, you crazy psychotic Wastelanders!_" Daxter wailed from his refuge under the driver's seat. Jak tapped the turbo, and finally the Dozer hopped out of its rut and slid sideways down a gravel slope until the wheels finally found some traction. A high-pitched whine alerted him to an incoming bomb, and Jak swerved wildly to avoid it. The blast sent them careening into a deep ravine where they trundled along on the only path forward while dozens of Dark Makers lined up along the rocky edges and satellites circled them like vultures.

"Oh, this is _much _better," Damas said acerbically. "Now if only you had swerved the _other _way, perhaps we might've stood a chance in hell!"

"If we'd gone the other way, we would be going the opposite direction of where he want!" Jak said through gritted teeth. "I told you, we're trying to get to the Catacombs!"

"And how do you propose to reach the Catacombs if we _die_ on the way there?"

"_We're gonna DIE?_" Daxter screeched. "I don't _wanna _die! Who's gonna run the Naughty Ottsel if I kick it? And do _not _say Torn, I _swear_ if it's Torn, I'll come back and haunt your dreams, Jak! See if I won't!"

With a thunderous roar, the line of Dark Makers surged into the ravine. Jak plowed ahead, mowing down the smaller ones easily. It was the larger satellites they had to worry about because if Damas didn't shoot them down first, they had the artillery to overwhelm them and destroy the vehicle. Having come most of the way on foot, Jak was not eager to lose the one advantage they had.

"Cliff ahead!" Damas shouted, and Jak raised his eyes from the Dark Makers to the huge gap lying right across their path. It didn't look _that _far to the other side. He floored it and winced when Damas cuffed him. "Are you _blind?_ Turn us around!"

"I know what I'm doing!" Jak insisted. "I've cleared jumps twice that size!"

"The Dozer is not equipped for that kind of leap!" Damas retorted. "We can't make it!"

"Yes, we can!"

"No, we _can't!_"

"Yes, we—!" Jak cut himself off when the gap loomed closer and he saw the sheer drop into oblivion below. He gulped. "Oh hell, we really can't!"

"_TURN!_"

Jak hit the brake and spun the steering wheel as far as it would go. The Dozer's tires squealed as they made a full one-eighty, its back end so close to the cliff that one of the wheels actually hung over the edge for a split second. It was Daxter who saved them by scrambling out of his hiding spot and punching the turbo for all he was worth. The extra force from the engines was just enough to keep them from going over, and then they were driving back the way they came while the Dark Makers scrambled to keep up.

"Maybe _next_ time you'll listen to your elders!" Damas ground out. "If you ever meet your father, I hope the man beats you black and blue!"

Jak pounded the dashboard with his fist. "Do _you _want to drive this thing, old man?" he spat, fuming.

At the livid look Damas cut him, Jak realized he had committed the ultimate Wastelander taboo. He'd pissed off the king of Spargus.

"Stop the car."

Jak gaped at Damas, hoping he had heard wrong. "What?"

"You heard me, _stop the car!_ We're switching!"

Cursing viciously, Jak stomped on the brakes. The Dozer halted so quickly that it took several seconds for the Dark Makers to notice and alter their course accordingly. That gave them about ten seconds of breathing space in which Damas and Jak hastily swapped spots, Jak manning the gun while Damas slid behind the wheel. Jak strapped his goggles over his eyes and took aim at the first satellite, bringing it to ground within seconds.

"If we get through this, it'll only be because I got us this far," Jak remarked crossly, feeling compelled to say it. To Jak's aggravation, Damas smirked broadly before turning his attention to the controls. The Dozer purred under his encouragement and then they were off like a shot. Against all odds, Damas managed to find a way out of the ravine without getting them blown up. Familiarity with the vehicle most likely had a hand in that, along with years of experience...and, Jak grudgingly admitted, a natural skill. Damas was certainly on par with him, if not better, a fact that made his pride curl up in a corner and whimper.

And it didn't help at all when Daxter found the courage to climb up to a front row seat and cheer on his new favorite racer.

"_YEE HA!_" Daxter whooped as they knocked over a tower and used it as a bridge. He hopped up and down on the back of Jak's seat like a hyperactive toddler. "Do it again, do it again!"

"Find me another tower, and I will," Damas said, teeth bared in a predatory grin.

"There's one! Hey Jak, blow those purple guys outta the way!"

Jak obliged, but only because they were a threat. The Dozer raced forward and rammed into the base of a teetering tower. The structure wavered and slowly keeled over, providing a more or less solid ramp up to higher ground. Jak searched the skies for any more Dark Makers, but they seemed to have retreated for now. Precursors knew why. He slid back down to catch his breath while Damas parked the vehicle before a pair of columns constructed of warm Precursor metal, marking the entrance of a tunnel that curved steeply below the earth and out of sight.

"That's got to be our way to the Catacombs," Jak said as he lifted his goggles. When he noticed Damas' shrewd look, he laughed and raised his hands in defeat. "_Fine_, I'll say it. That was some damn good driving."

"For an old man," Daxter put in gleefully.

"That's what I thought," Damas said haughtily. But he caught Jak's shoulder with a nod and a smile. "You were excellent too, Jak, both driving and on the gun. Well done...for a youngster."

Jak grinned widely at the heartfelt praise. Coming from anyone else, he would have written it off as merely perfunctory, but Damas didn't give out his commendation lightly and that alone made him value every positive word. Damas gripped the roll cage and swung out of the car. "Let's get moving," he said, nodding at the tunnel.

As Jak began to rise, Damas turned back. Horror flooded his eyes for a split second, and he cried out as fiery light illuminated the ground and an incoming roar filled their ears. "_Jak!_"

Jak twisted around, still halfway in the car when he saw the bomb closing in like a comet. He had no time to react, no time to scramble free from the vehicle or even to grab Daxter and pitch him out of the way. The bomb filled his vision entirely until it was all he could see, and Jak knew with a horrible certainty that he would not survive its impact. He shut his eyes, his mind racing back to all the people who were counting on him to succeed, more faces than he could possibly name let alone remember in the space of a single breath.

_I'm sorr—_

_BOOM!_

He was flying, and then falling. The blast flipped the Dozer completely, and the vehicle landed on his spine with an almighty _CRUNCH_, pinning him to the cold, sodden earth. Jak knew being crushed by several tons of steel was supposed to hurt, but his frail body wasn't capable of registering that level of pain and left him mercifully numb. He contemplated his hand lying limp inches from his nose, surprisingly apathetic as his vision fogged over. For years, Jak had anticipated a violent and painful death. He had thought to be captured and beaten by the KG, maybe torn apart and eaten alive by metalheads.

But this...this was peaceful, in a way. Jak didn't _like _it, but he might as well accept it because death would take him regardless.

About time.

The last thing he heard was Damas howling in grief. "_Jak, NO!_"

* * *

><p><em>He was in the throne room in Spargus, seated on the steps of the stone dais below the throne with Damas beside him. Daxter snoozed on a worn cushion nearby, his fur still damp from his swim in the pools at their feet. Damas never begrudged them the time they spent here. At times, it seemed he welcomed the company, and though Jak couldn't quite fathom why, he was grateful. Because this place was safe. It was home. From the moment he saw the remains of Samos' hut in Haven City, Jak had known he would never find his home again. He was forever a stranger in a strange world, a lonely drifter. <em>

_That was what made Damas different. Where others offered him food and weapons and words of gratitude, ignorant of what he truly sought, the king of Spargus had taken one look at the drifter and said_, Make your home here. I have plenty of room.

_Damas leaned back, gazing at the water in deep thought. Jak glanced at him and sighed. "You don't believe me, do you?"_

_The king smiled a little crookedly. "About you growing up centuries in the past and coming to this time through a Rift Gate? No, I believe you. Too much of your story rings true with the history only I and my monks have studied. And the Dark Eco Sages, the Acherons...it is said that the would-be hero who defeated them vanished into a portal at the moment the metalheads invaded this world. It was believed he perished or else he would have stopped the invasion."_

_Jak ducked his head, guilt flaring for a moment. "We had no idea opening the Rift Gate would expose this world to the metalheads. If I'd known, I would've left the damn thing at the citadel."_

_"What happened after you came through the Rift Gate? I can only imagine the shock that must have been to see what this world had become."_

_"I didn't realize it _was _our world, at first," Jak murmured, tracing patterns in the wet sand. Realizing he had drawn the seal of Mar, he erased it before Damas could see it and wrapped his arms around his knees. "It was so...so different. So much colder and crueler. We landed right in the middle of Haven City, and before I knew what was happening, I was captured by the Krimzon Guard. I'm just glad Dax was able to get away."_

_Damas shook his head somberly. "They must have had a lot of questions for you."_

_"Questions I couldn't answer," Jak said with a humorless smirk. "I was mute at the time. And even so...they weren't very interested in what I had to say."_

_"Indeed? What did they want with you, then?"_

_Jak hesitated. The years of his imprisonment stretched out behind him, a twisted and desolate road that he had long since left behind but could never forget. His scars were reminder enough. Without really thinking about it, Jak's attention drifted to Daxter, and he was surprised to see one sleepy blue eye peeking at the two of them. Daxter gave him a tiny, fleeting smile of reassurance and went back to faking sleep._

It's okay, buddy_, his silent message said._ I won't get jealous if you tell him what you've only told me.

_Jak's lips twitched. Trust Daxter to pretend it was all about him. He looked at Damas, taking strength from the king's steady gaze as, slowly, he began to talk. He spoke of the Dark Warrior Program that Praxis had devised, of the torture to break him and the dark eco injections to mutate him, of two years of hell. He hadn't meant to go into such grisly detail, but when Damas' hand found its way to his forearm partway through the telling, Jak took that as invitation to let the wound bleed until the poison was expelled. _

_To this day, he wasn't entirely sure why he felt he could tell Damas any of this. But deep down, Jak knew he needed at least one other person to _know _what he'd been through. Someone who was _not _Daxter, who hadn't been there since the beginning and didn't need him to be the hero. Someone who could look at what he had become, _all _of it, and tell him that it didn't make him a monster like Gol and Maia._

_"How on earth did you survive?" Damas said when Jak finally ran out of words. "I'm sorry, but I don't buy that you just happened to be the lucky one. If it was mere luck, others would have lived. There's something very special about you, isn't there?"_

_"You could say that," Jak said, examining his palms. "After the entrance I made, they suspected I was an eco channeler who had traveled here from another world. They were partly right. I _can _channel eco."_

_"What kind?"_

_"All kinds," Jak said, grinning at the surprised blink Damas gave him. "Yeah, that's how everyone reacts. No one ever told me it was impossible, so I just did it."_

_Damas chuckled. "Yes, you seem to do that quite often."_

_"The dark eco should have killed me," Jak murmured, lost in the distant memory. "I could see what it was doing to the other prisoners, and I knew the same thing would happen to me if I didn't do something. But once the eco was inside me, I couldn't reject it without killing myself, and I couldn't let it destroy me. I had to control it instead of letting it control me."_

_"So you channeled it," Damas said in a hushed voice. "Precursors. I...I can't imagine."_

_"It felt so...so wrong," Jak admitted. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. "I felt so filthy and tainted, like I had fire or acid in my veins. But I kept doing it because it was the only way to live. It never occurred to me to just lay down and die."_

_Damas gave him a rueful look. "And once again, you remind me of myself. Although knowing what you've been through, I'd say I got off lightly with mere banishment. And is this the reason you can transform into half an animal at will?"  
><em>

_Jak nodded grimly. "It's not always at will, but yeah basically. The dark eco...it's not evil by itself, it's just unstable. It hones in on my emotions. My rage, my pain...things I have no control over, and that in turn makes me unstable. Dangerous."_

_"You're only dangerous if you choose to be," Damas said judiciously. He held up a hand to forestall argument. "No, listen to me, Jak. You had the right of it in the Baron's prison. So long as you control it without letting it control you, there is no need to fear losing yourself like the Acherons. As you did with the eco, take the rage, take the pain, and channel it in a way that helps rather than hurts. Sometimes...sometimes the darkest and most visceral part of our hearts is also the strongest. Even pain reminds us that we're still alive."_

_Damas grasped his shoulder with a familiarity he had never shown until now. "And for what it's worth, Jak...I'm glad you're alive. And I know I'm not the only one."_

* * *

><p><em>...pain...<em>

_...even pain..._

_...reminds..._

"Jak! Come on, buddy! Knock it off with the out-of-body experience and talk to me!"

"Out of the way, Daxter! Let me try to get this off him…"

Ice water dripped onto his cheek, one droplet clinging precariously to his eyelash. Jak blinked and squinted up at Damas. The king had dredged up a steel beam from somewhere and now used it as a lever to try and pry the Dozer off him. The immense weight on his back lifted fractionally, and Jak wheezed at the pain that brought as shattered ribs and damaged vital organs shifted. He hacked, and blood splattered on the ground in a meaningless pattern. His body felt like a broken doll that had been chewed up, spit out and then trampled for good measure.

_Oh...I must be alive._

A wall of orange blocked his view. Daxter peered into his eyes and tugged on his hair desperately. "You're almost free, buddy. Just hang in there, 'kay? Old Sandy'll get you out!"

"Just a little more," Damas grunted. He heaved on the beam, and the side of the Dozer rose just a few inches higher. He propped the beam there and knelt to haul Jak out from under the wreck. Jak cried out hoarsely when even that slight movement brought agony. His vision darkened with painful white pulsing at the edges. Only two sensations kept him grounded in that tortuous maelstrom—Damas cradling his head and stroking his hair back from his face, and Daxter curling around his hand and nuzzling his palm with a cold nose.

"It should have been me," Damas whispered into his hair. "It _would_ have if I hadn't been such a stubborn old fool, trying to prove something...Jak, please forgive me."

"H-Hey, d-don't talk like that!" Daxter stammered. "C'mon, you're actin' like he's already dead. Well, he _ain't!_ He's just gotta do his light thing and go all shiny and sparkly, and then he'll be fine. Right, Jak? _Right?_"

Easier said than done. Jak had relied heavily on his light powers to keep him in one piece on the way here. He wasn't sure he had enough of the pure substance left to handle injuries so severe. But he had to try, for Daxter and Damas if nothing else. Jak shut his eyes and searched inside himself for that wellspring of radiant power, but his focus slipped and the eco eluded his grasp.

"Concentrate," Damas murmured to him. "Control it. Don't let it control you."

Jak breathed, reached one more time...and this time the eco answered his call. It saturated him like a healing balm, and he knew without looking that his skin would be translucent with it. It only lasted three heartbeats before the eco ran dry and left him empty and exhausted. The agony in his lungs was gone, and Jak could feel his toes again, but one of his legs remained broken, and his head throbbed with a bad concussion. And that was saying nothing about the dozens of cuts and bruises he had sustained. His condition had gone from fatal to merely critical.

"N-Need more," Jak croaked. "Dax…"

"You can count on me!" Daxter said at once. "The Daxtinator won't let ya down! We saw a bunch of eco vents on the way in, there's gotta be at least _one _around here."

"Check near the tunnel," Damas called after the ottsel. "The Precursors often used light eco in combination with dark to power the most ancient technologies."

"_Jackpot!_" Daxter announced. Jak sluggishly turned his head the other way until he could see Daxter at the entrance to the Precursor tunnel. He stood directly on top of a closed vent, struggling to pry it open with his small paws, but the vent stubbornly resisted his efforts. Damas left Jak to go help him, dusting dirt off the dull metal.

"Are you sure this contains light eco? That's the seal of Mar here, but I don't see anything indicating the type..."

"Won't know 'til we find out, will we?" Daxter replied. He crossed his arms and frowned at the vent like it had personally offended him. "I just gotta think...hey wait, maybe Jak's doohickey can open it!"

Daxter raced over to Jak on all fours and rifled through his pockets until he unearthed the amulet Ashelin had returned to him. Armed with that, the ottsel returned to the closed vent and waved the seal above it like a conjuror about to perform a magic trick. "Alright, let's do this! Abracadabra and whatnot! I command thee open sesame! Come on, ya stupid Precursor junk, I don't got all day—hey, give that back!"

"Why do you have this?" Damas demanded harshly, clutching the seal in both hands. "Where did you get it?"

"Who gives a crap, we've gotta get that vent open!" Daxter retorted. "I've seen Jak use it for stuff like this, it almost always works—"

"Of _course _it works! I know because I gave this amulet to my son! I'd know it anywhere! Where did you find it? Or did you take it from him?"

"Your...your son?" Daxter said dumbly. Jak jerked from his stupor when the words and their meaning penetrated. He locked eyes with Daxter, a bolt of shared understanding racing between them. The ottsel swayed and sat down hard. "Your son? As in..._your_ son? So that kid was...and that means..._holy_..."

Jak swallowed thickly, tasting blood, unable to wrap his head around the time-halting realization. _Damas is my...?_

_I just found him wandering the streets, but that amulet suggests he may be the lost heir to this city..._

_Baron Praxis betrayed me and banished me to the Wasteland. The rest, you know..._

"You know where he is," Damas said in a hushed voice. He looked from Jak to Daxter, at once hopeful and anguished. "Both of you know where Mar is! You must tell me, _please!_"

_I mustn't lose you, like I lost my son..._

_You had a child?_

_Didn't your father ever tell you to pick your battles wisely?_

_I didn't know my father..._

_I didn't know..._

And right then all of Jak's thoughts shifted from _Oh my God _to _I have to tell him._ He forced himself to move, turning over and getting an arm under him so he could push himself up. But before he could get any farther, a heavy boot came down on the back of his neck and brutally shoved him back to the dirt. Jak twisted around, shocked to see it was Veger who stood above him. The councilor aimed a pistol at both Damas and Daxter for all the world like a conquering hero.

"Well now, this is a surprise," Veger said in that silky way that grated on Jak's nerves. "I knew the boy must have earned your good graces to have survived the Wasteland, but I'm impressed you came all this way to aid him. Welcome back to Haven, Lord Damas."

Damas stood slowly, never taking his eyes off Veger. "You know me, but I'm afraid I can't say the same," he said evenly.

"Consider yourself lucky!" Daxter snorted. "That blowhard Velcro over there—"

"_Veger_, moron!"

"—was the one who banished Jak in the first place!"

Damas looked Veger up and down, a disdainful smirk playing out on his lips. "Ah...then he is both scum _and _stupid. A rather unlucky combination. But I suppose I should thank you for giving me such a fine warrior."

Veger's laugh was entirely complacent as he added more pressure to Jak's neck. "Oh no, Damas...consider him repayment for letting me borrow your child all those years ago."

In all his months under Damas' command, Jak had never seen him so close to a murderous rage. "That was the wrong thing to say, _Veger_," he hissed. He rushed forward, the suddenness of the attack taking Veger by surprise. Damas seized his wrist and shoved him against the Dozer, forcing the pistol's muzzle beneath his jaw. "Lately it seems _everyone _knows what happened to my son except me! You will tell me what you know!"

"You'll never find him if you kill me!" Veger protested, and he smiled when Damas hesitated. "You've been searching for so long, haven't you? Such devotion. I do hope you aren't...disappointed."

The bastard knew. He knew, and he was toying with them. Rage made Jak's vision flash red, and his body trembled with the need to unleash it. But channeling dark eco in this state would probably finish him off. Jak focused on the vent not ten steps away and slowly began to drag himself toward it. Daxter abandoned Jak's amulet in the dirt so he could hoist Jak's arm across his back and pull him onward. He was so afraid he was quivering, all his fur slicked to his body, but he still managed a shaky grin. "Your old man is _badass_," he whispered.

Jak choked on a laugh. His old man. His _father_. Damas, the one man he respected enough to obey without question and admired enough to want his respect in return...and that man was his father! He couldn't have asked for more.

A bright light flared up, and Damas jumped back, nursing his hand as the gun clattered to the ground. Veger raised his scepter between them, the ruby embedded in the top now glowing faintly. Damas circled the councilor warily, each man eyeing the other. Jak tore his eyes away from the standoff. The vent was closer now, and the seal of Mar just beside it. He inched closer, moving slowly so Veger wouldn't notice.

"Why did you steal Mar from me?" Damas said in a low voice. "If it's me you have some quarrel with..."

"Oh, hardly," Veger said lightly. "At the time, the Baron was searching for new ways to combat the metalheads. His methods led him to the idea of a class of eco warriors that would turn the tide of the battle. For that, he had need of viable candidates, and knowing the kind of talent that lies in Mar's bloodline...well, how could I resist?"

"You're talking about the Dark Warrior Program!" Damas said in outrage. "You would subject a _child _to that kind of torture?"

"Of course not!" Veger protested with a shudder of disgust. "Dark eco is a vile substance, the antithesis of life! I had my own experiments planned involving light eco. Unfortunately, your son was far more clever than I anticipated and gave me the slip in Haven City."

"Yes, he always did have a good survivor's instinct," Damas said in quiet pride. "I'll find him yet."

Veger laughed as Jak's hand closed around the seal. "In a way, you already have. But don't look at _me,_ Damas. If you want answers, perhaps you should ask your _fine warrior_ over there—"

Daxter stood back as Jak held the seal of Mar to his chest and poured his will into the amulet. The vent below him blazed and white light engulfed him, a tidal wave to the feeble trickle earlier. As his broken leg was neatly mended and his head cleared, Jak rose into a kneeling position and observed the two men serenely. Veger's flabbergasted expression almost shattered his trance from sheer hilarity. Evidently, the councilor had never seen him channel light eco. Damas was harder to read, but there was a dawning suspicion there along with the barest flicker of what could be hope.

"Three years ago, the heir of Mar was found by the Underground in Haven City," Jak said calmly, the light eco momentarily quelling his doubts. Damas deserved the truth. "He was too young to reclaim the throne, and as long as he lived, he would never be safe from Praxis. So he was sent to a place where he _would _be safe...back to a time period before the metalheads and before Praxis. Because they knew that, when he was older, he would find his way back and protect Haven as his younger self could not."

As the light eco dissipated, Jak looked Damas in the eye and gave him a sad little shrug. "I'm sorry. If I'd known I still had family in this time...maybe I wouldn't have let that kid go."

Damas was silent for a long, long moment. So long that Jak feared he didn't believe him. But the longer Damas watched him, the softer his expression became. He ducked his head with a faint laugh, mirroring Jak's wry look. "How can I blame you when I've been just as blind to what was right in front of me? You look...just like I always imagined you would, Mar."

Mar. So _that _was his true name, the one he'd been given from birth. Jak's heart swelled with so much joy that he thought it would burst from his chest. He wanted to rush forward and embrace Damas with all the unreserved love of a child, and he could see from the way the king's fingers clenched that the feeling was mutual.

"W-What?" Veger spluttered in astonishment. "_What?_ Y-You can't be serious! Even now you accept that corrupted _freak _as your son?"

"Watch your mouth, Veger," Damas said drolly. "That's a descendent of Mar you're addressing."

"_Hell_ yeah!" Daxter crowed in delight. "You picked the wrong family to piss off, Vinyl! Well? Ain't this the part where you bow and scrape at their feet and swear eternal fealty or whatever? They _are _the ruling family of Haven _and _Spargus! Oh, and let's not forget the Mar clan's _honorary_ member, your very own Orange Lightning! You can start by giving me a well-earned footrub! I'm _waaaiting._"

Veger glared at them all hatefully, clutching his scepter to his chest. He seemed dangerously close to an apoplectic fit, but then he grew calm again and began to chuckle darkly. "_Fine_," he breathed. "Fine. I always knew the house of Mar was far too radical for its own good, but now to see how far it's fallen after all these millennia...yes, it is up to me! I will take it upon myself to purge this corruption, and then I'll claim my reward from the Precursors!"

Damas stepped forward angrily. "You'll do no such thing, you arrogant—!"

Veger swept his scepter out and a shock wave of red eco caught Damas in the chest and threw him backward. He staggered to a halt near the edge of the Precursor tunnel, nearly falling in. Jak leapt to his feet, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. His morph gun was still somewhere under the Dozer.

"I hoped you would see reason," Veger said with almost a fanatical smile, "but it seems you're determined to keep to your heretical ways. Very well! May you reap what you sow, Lord Damas!"

The scepter blazed, and Damas flinched, expecting another energy wave. But instead an answering glow came from just below his feet, and Jak caught his breath when he realized what it was. A second eco vent directly _opposite_ the light vent he stood over. And that meant...

"_NO!_" Jak cried as the vent opened and a column of fiery darkness erupted upward. Damas _screamed_ when the dark eco touched him, shrouding him in its lethal embrace, but it was so much worse when the screaming _stopped _and all signs of his struggles abruptly ceased. Jak howled and lunged at his father's killer, so consumed by grief that he could only think of getting his hands on Veger and making him suffer for everything. For abducting him from his family, for keeping them apart all this time, for _existing_.

But Veger caught him off guard with a similar red eco blast that caught Jak full in the chest and knocked him flat. Winded, Jak struggled to catch his breath as Veger approached. The councilor cursed when Daxter made a running leap and latched onto the arm, scratching and biting every inch of skin he could reach. Veger flung him aside with all his strength and reclaimed his pistol, taking aim squarely at Jak's forehead.

"So, descendant of Mar," Veger said in triumph. "It seems you're the last of your line. A pity your father died first...I had hoped to make him watch."

Darkness and agony pulsed inside Jak, begging release, _demanding _blood for blood. He was on the verge of granting it just that when he sensed an answering _pulse _from nearby. The towering plume of dark eco grew larger, then smaller, and it was possible to discern a person hunched over at its core. Jak caught his breath when he recognized Damas, eyes shut tight and teeth clenched. But then he drew breath and spoke, each word guttural and raw.

_"Don't—you—DARE—"_

The eco twined around him in little eddies and swirls, not harming or dissipating. It was being _absorbed_. Damas cried out sharply and clawed at his chest as if he wanted to peel the skin back and tear his heart out.

_"—TOUCH—MY—__**SON!**__"_

His eyes snapped open, and Jak gasped when he saw nothing but black. Blacker than the darkest night, yet the madness they radiated scorched as fiercely as the desert sun.

_God, no..._

Damas roared. His skin bleached impossibly pale, muscles bulging as horns sprouted from his head and fingernails reshaped into black claws. He..._it _staggered away from the vent and surveyed its victims with a low, menacing growl. Veger blanched and backed up with wide eyes. All his righteous courage seemed to have fled at the sight of the very beast he had preached against, but never come face to face with. As Damas advanced, his lips stretched into a terrible, merciless grin that Jak knew very well.

Jak scrambled to his knees, reaching out. "Damas...Damas, look at me!"

Black eyes locked onto him, and the intense lust for blood in them made Jak's heart pound in panic. He had to stop this. He couldn't see Damas—_his father_—brought this low, allowing his darkest impulses to drive him into insanity. Not when Damas had his city and his people to look after, not when so much was at stake. Not when it was all his fault things had gotten this far because _Jak had told him how to do it_.

_It was the only way to live, it never occurred to me to just lay down and die..._

_And once again, you remind me of..._

"_Don't do this_," Jak implored. "You're...come on, you're _better _than this! He isn't worth it! Believe me, it's _not_ worth losing that part of yourself. If you give in now, then next time it'll just be easier. And next time, it might be someone you care about."

Damas said nothing, but he _was_ listening, and he didn't look _quite _as prepared to pounce Veger and tear his throat out. Jak inched closer, voicing the word he'd been searching for since he was a small child.

"Father..."

Veger broke and ran for the Precursor tunnel and the hovering transports waiting there. Damas forgot all about Jak and gave chase with a chilling howl. Veger had almost made it when Damas caught up to him and slashed four bloody furrows across his chest. Veger collapsed against one of the transports. He raised the pistol, but a pale hand closed around his wrist, and the councilor cried out when the dark eco made the muscles spasm and drop it. The pistol bounced sideways and fell into the dark maw of the Precursor tunnel, lost to sight.

By then, Jak was on his feet and running. He couldn't go up against Damas unarmed, not like this, so his first stop was the dark eco vent. Bracing himself, Jak leapt into the chaotic energy. He was Dark Jak before he hit the ground and sprinted for the two men without pause. Damas had Veger pinned to the transport, choking him. He raised his hand high, claws ready to rend, and only Jak's need to stop him kept him from acting on the impulse to join him. He tackled Damas and the two of them tumbled sideways. Veger wisely took the opportunity to take his scepter, clamber into the transport and speed off into the tunnel.

Jak and Damas grappled like wild dogs contending for dominance, attacking with teeth and claws alike. Somehow Jak managed to pin Damas on his stomach and hook an arm around his neck, and he roared when Damas twisted his head sank inch long fangs into his bicep. They separated and circled, Jak fighting to hang onto his sanity. Unlike him, Damas hadn't been subjected to two years of eco injections. Soon the limited amount he had absorbed would burn out and he should revert to his true self. It was just a question of staying alive until that happened.

Thinking to restrain him again, Jak rushed forward. But Damas dodged sideways, and his claws raked over Jak's flank. The pain made him snap momentarily, and he lashed out. Damas recoiled with a low hiss, bleeding from long, slanting gashes along his neck and the right side of his jaw. Jak backed off hurriedly. He could have slit his throat then! But the hesitation cost him when Damas seized him and hurled him into the side of the Dozer where he collapsed in a painful heap. Jak shook his head dizzily, trying to get his bearings, and he spotted the butt of his morph gun poking out from under the vehicle. That might truly be his only option now.

Shutting his eyes, Jak forced himself to let the dark eco recede. It didn't go without a fight, shrieking along his nerves in a way that made his teeth grind. But the hand that finally closed around the weapon was wholly human. Jak rose on unsteady legs, bracing himself against the Dozer while he took aim at the monster stalking toward him.

"Damas, _stop!_" Jak shouted in desperation. "Don't make me go this far, please!"

Damas cocked his head, upper lip curling as if he found Jak's entreaty amusing. He continued to close the distance, drawing it out like a cat playing with a trapped mouse. Knowing it had all the time in the world before it put the poor creature out of its misery. Jak's hands shook. God, did _he _look like that every time he transformed? Predator to the core, lacking all reason and empathy? No wonder so many people were afraid of him. He had _deserved _his banishment.

Jak's finger curled around the trigger, but he knew he would never take the shot. His heart wouldn't allow it. "Father, _don't_," he whispered, sick with despair at the thought of Damas coming to his senses after it was all over, seeing the blood on his hands and the corpse at his feet, living with the knowledge that he had murdered his only son right when he'd finally _found _him...

Damas' foot brushed against something, a red amulet that glinted faintly in the gaudy light cast by the dark eco. Jak blinked stupidly. When had he dropped that? When he attacked Veger, or sometime after? The seal of Mar caught and held Damas' eyes, the hostility slowly fading the longer he studied it.

"_Mar...?_"

Jak lowered the gun, but didn't dare drop it yet. Anger over losing his son had set this off in the first place. Jak could still lose him if he was careless with his next move. He edged closer, and Damas shrank back, staring at him in growing confusion. For just a moment, he was _there_. He was lucid enough to understand something was very, very _wrong_. His breathing quickened when he caught sight of his hands and the dark eco rippling over his skin, a panicked sound catching in his throat.

"_H-Help me! Jak—!_"

Jak didn't hesitate. Flinging the gun aside, he clasped Damas' hands and _pulled_. Violet lightning rushed over him and through him, changing him for an instant even as the color bleached back into Damas and his eyes lightened to their normal hue. Damas wavered and sank to his knees, groaning as he cradled his head. Jak also dropped once he had absorbed and tamed the eco, both of them mercifully normal.

"It's always like that for you?" Damas rasped, panting in the aftermath. "That ferocity, that...that _inhuman?_"

Jak could only nod. His muscles trembled from exertion after so much rapid channeling, and the wounds on his arm and side ached, though his light eco stores were already healing them. Damas looked worse with blood covering half his face, but the marks left by Jak's claws were shallow. They would heal with time, possibly scar...Jak made himself look away. The worst wasn't even over. They had yet to reach the Catacombs, and there was still Erol and the Dark Makers to contend with. Everything else—everything—was just going to have to wait.

He closed his hand over the seal of Mar only to have another hand cover his. Jak looked at Damas and then quickly away. "We need to get moving," he muttered. "By now, Veger's probably wreaking all kinds of havoc down there..."

"Jak," Damas said quietly, but firmly. He squeezed his hand. "It's all true...isn't it? Please be honest with me because...I don't think I could take it if it wasn't."

Jak faltered, afraid suddenly of how intently Damas was watching him. It was one thing when he had been desperate for an answer, _any _answer, but what about now? Now when he must accept it was _Jak _he had been looking for, Haven City's resident eco freak and hired gun?

"Yeah," Jak murmured, unable to hide a thread of misgiving. "Yeah, it's all true."

Damas released him and said nothing. Jak pretended to be fascinated with the ground as he waited for a reaction, a reply, _anything_. But when the silent stretched, he exhaled softly and looked off to the side. "I'm _that _much of a disappointment, huh?" he said cynically.

Damas gripped his chin and forced him to look up. "No, you're _not_, Jak! Don't ever let me hear you say that! If anyone here has a right to be disappointed...it's you."

"Why the hell would _I _be disappointed?" Jak said, startled. "I had no reason to think I'd _ever _find my family. It was like...like one big secret the entire world was keeping from me. And then I find out it was _you _all along, and I can't even...I don't know how to..."

Jak broke off in frustration. How could this be so difficult? He had spent all his childhood imagining what he would do if he met his parents. Most of those imaginings had involved a great deal of hugging and questions and joyful tears. Jak _was_ happy, obviously thrilled, but he had been disappointed so many times by so many people that he couldn't bring himself to believe in Damas unconditionally. He had to _know _how things stood between them, but it was so _hard_. There was so much to say, so much...

"Tell me what you're feeling," Damas said, and he sounded just as lost and uncertain as Jak. "Whatever it is, you can say it. Please..."

"Damas...of all the people it could have been, you're the _last _person I would have guessed," Jak admitted at last. Before Damas could look properly crestfallen, Jak smiled, letting him see his conviction. "But you're the first I would have chosen."

Damas' relief and joy were so profound that they threatened to make Jak break down completely. Damas yanked him into a fierce hug, and as Jak clung to him with all his might, he could feel him shaking as he battled his own emotional turmoil. When they finally separated, Jak blinked furiously and had to take a moment to wipe his eyes discreetly, pretending not to notice when Damas did the same. After that...there seemed no need to speak further. Their doubts now laid to rest, they could wait to reconnect until time was not such a pressing issue.

Giving him one last heartfelt look, Damas braced his hands on his knees and rose slowly like he expected to fall over any moment. He waved off Jak's concern. "I'm alright, just exhausted. I can make it to the Catacombs, but I doubt I'll be good for much else after that."

Jak nodded reluctantly. Somehow he had known it would come down to him and Erol alone. Well, not quite alone if he counted...

"Daxter!" Jak cried, furious with himself for forgetting. Looking around, he sprinted toward the overturned Dozer and the patch of orange huddled by one of the wheels. Daxter was on his feet, but leaning heavily against the wheel with his back to them. Jak crouched over him with his heart in his throat. "Dax, are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

Daxter waved a hand over his shoulder jerkily. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but his silence worried Jak. He made to reach for him, but paused when he heard a suspicious whimpering noise.

"Daxter, are you..._crying?_"

"_Oh, SHUT UP!_" Daxter bawled. He whirled around to glare at him, but the effect was spoiled by the tears spilling over his cheeks and the sobs wracking his small frame. "C-Can't a guy shed s-some manly tears around here? _God,_ you'd think having a heart was a crime! I w-was okay up 'til you said that damn line about c-choosing your family, and then you guys got all...all _tender_ and stuff, and I...and I just...damn you, Jak,_ I blame you forever!_"

Jak tried not to laugh, he really did, but a few affectionate chuckles escaped. To soften the blow, he scooped Daxter up and let his friend muffle his sniffles and hiccups in his sleeve. "It's okay, Dax. Really, I won't tell anyone."

"Better _not_," Daxter mumbled, scrubbing his eyes uselessly. "Otherwise I'd hafta kill ya."

"Is he alright?" Damas said dubiously as Jak stooped to pick up his morph gun and rejoined him.

"Oh, just peachy," Daxter retorted feebly. "Just gettin' used to the fact that I'm surrounded by saps, that's all. Two great big blubbering _saps_."

"Oh, I see," Damas said, sounding amused. "Well, I hope you pull yourself together soon. As an honorary member of the Mar house, our dignity rests on your shoulders too, Precursors help us."

Jak stared, and Daxter's ears perked up suspiciously. "I was kidding about that..."

"I wasn't," Damas said frankly. He straightened up. "I'm afraid you'll have to do without a proper ceremony, and I have no amulet to give you. But I, Damas of the house of Mar, formally induct Daxter into the house of Mar. From now on, our name and our blood are one and the same."

Daxter blinked and shared an incredulous look with Jak. After a moment, the ottsel beamed and thrust out his fist smugly. "'Sup, bro."

Jak bumped fists with him, unable for the moment to formulate a reply as he wondered how on earth Damas had _known_. Daxter's one greatest fear—even more than being skinned and eaten by Kleiver—was being left behind. It had happened to him once when he arrived in Sandover as an orphan, the only survivor of a Lurker attack that wiped out his village, and since that day they had never parted willingly. Now their brotherhood was more than just a figment of their imagination, and Jak could never come up with the words for his gratitude.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Jak met his father's eyes anxiously. "Are you sure it's really okay? I'm not sure Seem and her monks will approve..."

"I don't need their approval to add a second son to my family," Damas assured him, and then he chortled. "Besides, I can't _wait _to see the look on Veger's face!"

"I second_ that!_" Daxter exclaimed, pumping his fist. "Come on, let's get moving! We'll get that Vegan guy and knock him flat! And then we'll take down Erol, and after _that _we party and drink to my new princely status!"

Damas cleared his throat pointedly as he and Jak climbed into the remaining transport at the mouth of the Precursor tunnel. "Actually, Sig is my current successor. In accordance with Wastelander law, you'll have to face him in the arena if you wish to depose him."

"Um," Daxter faltered. He climbed up to Jak's shoulder and crouched by his ear in agitation. "On second thought, we don't care 'bout no stinkin' throne, right Jak? We're good with being heirs to the heir! _Right_, Jak?"

Jak fired up the transport and settled his hands on the steering column with an easy grin. "I dunno," he teased, enjoying the way Daxter balked. "I'll have to think about it. _After _we finish this."

Damas grunted as he slumped back in his seat wearily. "Indeed. And this time, I'll let _you_ drive."

* * *

><p><em>A.N. I could not for the life of me decide what genre to put this under. Is it angst? Is it humor? Is it hurtcomfort, family, drama? I would personally say all of the above, and I hate being limited to only two.  
><em>


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